Born On The Fourth Of July
by Unoriginality
Summary: It's Steve's birthday and nothing will ever be the same again. (Winter Soldier spoilers; also, trigger warnings.)


"So it's the fourth of July and you are officially old," Bucky said as way of greeting that morning.

Steve groaned, hiding his face against his arms folded on the table. "Don't remind me. I hate having my birthday on this day. I was cursed."

Bucky took his seat next to Steve, patting Steve's shoulder. "So what does Captain America plan to do for this special day?" He knew he was being an asshole, but he wouldn't be a good best friend if he weren't.

Steve lifted his head to give Bucky a dirty look that he used every year they'd been together for his birthday after the whole Captain America routine. Bucky never stopped wanting to laugh at it. "Throwing my best friend out the window, for starters."

"What, no firecrackers?" Bucky laughed. "I know, you'll probably want to just avoid everywhere in the country ever."

"Especially here in D.C.," Steve said, sitting up. He was quiet, with a distant sort of look on his face that indicated he was lost somewhere deep in thought. That wasn't Steve's usual reaction to his birthday, or at least, it hadn't been last year. Last year, he'd grumbled, pretended to be grumpy at Bucky for picking up a cupcake with a candle in it for him, but otherwise acted like it was any other day. At least until the fireworks started going off, at which point, both he and Bucky put in earbuds and cranked up music of their choice on their electronic devices of choice.

But this year, something was different. Something had Steve not doing his usual "I'm a senior citizen and I reserve the right to ignore my birthday" routine that had no basis in his actual feelings on the matter but was more of a game to deal with being temporally displaced. It'd been easier for them to avoid that on Bucky's birthday the month before, but with Steve's birthday also being the country's birthday, it was impossible to ignore.

Bucky studied Steve a moment, giving his friend a chance to decide if he wanted to say something or not. When nothing seemed like it'd be given voice from its place in Steve's mess of a brain, Bucky nudged Steve's foot under the table with his own. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Steve said, gaze focused down on the table. Then he frowned. "Well, no, nothing's _wrong_, not like that, but, yes, there's something on my mind, if that's what you mean."

"You know that's what I meant," Bucky said. "So what is it? What deep dark mysteries are you currently unraveling in there?"

Steve drew in a deep breath, not looking away from that fixed point on the table that couldn't be terribly interesting. "I got a call from Peggy the other day. Well, from her caretaker. Her condition's starting to get bad. I know I usually avoid emerging from my snake hole on July Fourth because I don't want to get caught up in someone's patriotic celebrations, but I think- I don't know. It's my birthday, it's a special day, I should spend at least some time with her. It's probably the last one we'd spend together."

Bucky felt something inside him sink. Steve was right. The woman he loved was lucky time hadn't already taken her off, but between that and the worsening dementia, this year would be the last time they'd be able to spend a birthday together.

He almost told Steve to get his ass in gear, and that Bucky'd see him later and would be fine on his own as he was every time Steve went to visit Peggy, but he didn't. He hesitated. Peggy's time was dwindling, and she had no idea he was alive. He'd figured on visiting her and telling her once the news hit the media, but she might not have that long. And once he'd gotten over the blow to his ego of being turned down flat by her, he'd liked her. She was a friend, and more importantly, she was a woman that made Steve happy. The first ever. That was someone special.

"So let's go visit her," is what popped out of his mouth before he could question his decision.

Steve turned his head to look up at Bucky. "You never go with me."

Bucky shrugged. "The media's been slow to figure out who I am," he said. "I'm tired of waiting. I liked her too, you know." And if there were any worry that she might tell, which was very slim, it'd get chalked up as her dementia speaking. He didn't say that though, because that seemed a little crass.

Besides, he knew the visit would be tough on Steve, and he wanted to be there for him.

Whether Steve picked up on that unspoken reason or not, and Bucky doubted that he didn't, it didn't seem to matter. He glanced at the clock. "She should be done with breakfast about now," he said. "We could go now, I guess, before the city gets too crazy with celebrations."

"If by too crazy, you mean sometime before the fireworks at the mall, sure," Bucky said.

Bucky elected not to wear his hat, probably the first time he'd gone out in public without it in a long time, which surprised Steve. With as much news coverage as would be going on, it increased the risk that someone would spot him and put two and two together. But, Bucky pointed out, Peggy would have more trouble recognizing him with it. His hair would probably throw her off enough as it was.

Peggy didn't live in a permanent rest home, although there were certainly some very high quality places, even some specializing in memory care, in town that she could choose from. But Peggy had a comfortable income from both her pension as a government agent, and her retirement income from Social Security, that she could afford to have a live-in caretaker at her own home.

Her house was nice, nicer than anything Bucky had ever lived in. Seemed awfully big for just one person, but when Bucky mentioned that, Steve pointed out that when Peggy bought the house, it was her, a husband, and a decent number of kids. Just because she was down to the only person living there aside from Kerrie, her caretaker, didn't mean she should have to gve up a house that held a lot of good memories for her.

Since Bucky's family, while decently off for living in Brooklyn during the Depression, had never had a permanent place to get that attached to, he couldn't really relate, but he saw Steve's point and let the subject drop.

"Good morning, Captain Rogers," Kerrie said upon answering the door. She was a good-looking woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, but she had that blond, bland hairstyle that it seemed every woman had these days. What happened to the classy styles of his day? There was no variety anymore.

"Morning, Kerrie," Steve said. "Peggy's up for visitors today, I hope?"

"She is," Kerrie said. She glanced at Bucky. "Bringing along a friend?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah, just my roommate. He wanted to meet Peggy."

Kerrie didn't seem inclined to delve further, although she studied Bucky closely for a moment. She stepped back, holding the door open for them. "You know the way, Captain," she said.

Bucky followed Steve silently to Peggy's room, where a woman that Bucky barely recognized as Peggy was propped up in bed, reading. Steve knocked on the door frame. "Hey, Peggy. Don't mind some company, do you?"

Peggy looked over and smiled. "Steve! Come in. I wasn't expecting you today, you usually don't go out on the Fourth."

Steve smiled, leading Bucky into the room. "I have a friend who wanted to see you, so I figured now's as good a time as any."

Once they were both in the room, Bucky was able to step out from behind Steve, where he'd been mostly blocked from Peggy's line of sight. "Hi, Peggy," he said, offering her a lopsided smile.

Peggy looked at him in confusion, then lifted her head slightly, then lit up like a million watts. "Bucky! You- you're alive! But how? You fell off a mountain, you were dead."

Bucky ignored the memory of that fall that wanted to crowd in on him every time it came up. "And Steve crashed a plane into ice," he pointed out. "He's not the only one that gets to come back from the dead." It dodged the subject, and probably was a bit of an insult to Peggy's intelligence, but he hoped that a woman used to keeping secrets would understand him keeping one from her.

Peggy laid her head back down. "I don't understand how, but I'm glad. It hurt Steve so much when you died. I was worried he'd be alone once I was gone."

He walked closer to the bed as Steve grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the other side of the bed, settling himself in what was probably his usual spot next to Peggy. "I couldn't leave this punk alone," he said to Peggy. "He gets into too much trouble without me."

That bright smile was still on her face. "I'm so glad. You've been missed."

"I didn't mean to abandon anyone," he said.

Peggy looked over at Steve. "How long have you known?"

Steve looked a bit guilty. "About a year now. He's been adjusting to modern life. He missed a few decades, and it's a bit jarring to wake up in a different world." While he was talking, Bucky walked around the bed to stand next to Steve, leaning his hip against the back of Steve's chair. There wasn't a second chair in the room, so standing it was.

"How'd you find him?" Peggy asked. Bucky would accuse her of trying to get Steve to say what Bucky refused to, since Steve was such an awful liar, but he knew that Steve was willing and able to lie fairly convincingly when his loved ones' feelings were on the line. If Peggy knew that Hydra was the reason Bucky was still alive, she'd take it hard since Hydra still being around all this time had been SHIELD's fault and she'd helped found SHIELD.

"Ran into him around the time Hydra got exposed," Steve said. "We still don't really know what happened. He didn't recognize me at first. We've been trying to get his memory back, but it's slow going."

Not entirely true, but there were a lot of missing or fuzzy memories hiding in his head from those years as Hydra's pet, so it was close enough. Steve's methods of lying were either blatantly untrue, which were easy to see through, or they were indirect lies that left a lot out but still had a value of truth to them. Those were the ones that usually flew under the radar.

Peggy seemed to accept that. She studied Bucky, then tiled her head, studying Bucky's crossed arms. His t-shirt didn't exactly hide the fact that his left arm was mechanical, but Bucky wasn't about to go out in the summer heat in anything warmer than a t-shirt unless he was in uniform. "I wondered who the Winter Soldier was," she said. "Steve never talked about his partner, even when I asked. I'm not surprised it's you."

Bucky spared a glance at his arm before looking back at Peggy. "Even if it weren't, he needs a partner to look out for him," he said.

"Very true," Peggy agreed. "So how old are you two now?"

"Way too old," Bucky said. "Steve's birthday is today, so I told him to come here so you could heckle him for being a crotchety old jackass."

Peggy laughed. "I could never imagine Steve being crotchety," she said. Then she looked at Steve with an affectionate smile. "The only time I've ever seen him angry was when he was planning that last raid on Hydra after you died."

Bucky looked down at Steve. "I never took you as the sort for revenge."

Steve shrugged. "I'd also never had anyone kill my best friend."

"Touche."

They ultimately stayed for about an hour, Steve and Peggy chatting about the old days with Bucky playing peanut gallery and offering his own commentary from time to time, and telling stories about Steve from before he'd met Peggy when asked. He did his best to not be too much of an asshole, mostly telling only the good, but the occasional story about the stupid things he and Steve got into as kids slipped out, and they always made Peggy laugh. Steve didn't seem as impressed.

The conversation got abruptly derailed when Peggy started staring at them as if she were seeing them for the first time. "I'm sorry, I- who are you?"

Bucky's smile disappeared, staring helplessly down at Steve. He'd never dealt with anyone with dementia, especially not a friend, and he had no idea how to handle it. It was outright terrifying to suddenly be a stranger in the eyes of a friend. Even Steve had not looked at him like that once he'd gotten a good look at Bucky's face.

Steve seemed to know what to do. "We're friends of the family," he said. "Your parents asked us to come check on you."

That settled Peggy down and satisfied her confusion. "Tell them hello for me then," she said. "And tell them that next time, they should come see me themselves."

Steve smiled. "We will. Your mom has a cold right now and didn't want to spread it to you. She'll be fine in a few days."

After Peggy seemed suitably comfortable in the reality she'd disappeared into, Steve bid her goodbye, Bucky staying as silent as possible for fear that he'd cause more problems than he'd fix, then the two of them left.

"I didn't realize you had gotten good at lying," Bucky said once they were outside.

Steve didn't even look at him. "I've talked with Kerrie, she's worked with dementia patients for a long time. It's best not to try to correct them, that just upsets them."

Bucky had no idea how Steve could emotionally handle watching the woman he loved disappear like that. He wasn't sure he'd do it half as well as Steve was.

Neither said anything on the way home, although that by itself wasn't terribly unusual. The bike usually drowned out their voices anyway, but this time, the silence was uncomfortable. And it lingered once they got to their apartment. Bucky now understood why Steve sometimes couldn't fake everything being normal after his visits with Peggy.

The day passed slowly, with that nervewracking silence not going away, with little exception. Bucky tried to distract himself from Steve's down mood and his own witnessing Peggy's episode with his tablet and the wonderful world of the internet, but even that wasn't helping much. In desperation, he gave up and baked cookies. He didn't know how to make any other dessert type thing, and he figured Steve deserved at least something for his birthday to maybe cheer him up.

It was later that evening, shortly before the fireworks would start, that Steve's phone rang. Steve was in the shower at the time, so Bucky checked the caller ID on the off chance that the caller didn't leave a voicemail so he could let Steve know who'd called. The fact that the missed calls would show the number was completely irrelevant.

The caller ID said Kerrie's name. Bucky hesitated. He never actually answered Steve's calls, but something in his gut said he needed to answer this one. Maybe it was his own reaction to Peggy's condition, or maybe it was just a good sense of intuition, but either way, he'd clicked answer before he could second-guess himself and let it ring instead. "Hello?"

"Mister Barnes, this is Kerrie. Is Captain Rogers available?"

Bucky didn't bother trying to deny his identity, it would've been very easy for Peggy's caretaker to overhear their conversation. He had no idea if this meant the end of his anonymity or not, and at that second, he didn't care. "No, he's not. Can I take a message?"

Kerrie took a deep breath on the other end of the line. "Peggy passed away about a half hour ago. I just got done notifying the family."

Bucky felt his heart stop and his mind completely blank out for a moment as it tried in vain to process that. Despite just seeing her earlier that day, he still pictured that young woman with dark hair and pretty brown eyes that sparkled every time Steve was around. The idea that she was gone just seemed impossible.

"I'll let him know," he said stiffly, trying to keep his voice from cracking as his throat constricted. His eyes grew wet, and he struggled to keep the tears at bay at least long enough to get off the phone.

"Thank you," Kerrie said. "I'll call as soon as the family's arranged when the funeral will be."

Bucky didn't remember saying goodbye before he hung up; he distantly hoped he had, but that was a pretty minor thought in the back of his brain. Peggy was gone. He'd just seen her, and now she was gone and Steve's heart would break. Bucky wasn't so sure that his wasn't, too. The last of their world was gone, leaving only the two of them, completely out of time, with none of the family and friends they grew up with.

He rested his fist against his chin, staring off at the wall until his vision blurred. He didn't bother to try to stop the tears anymore, breathing unsteadily as his face became wet from them. He didn't wipe them away, didn't rub his eyes even when they started to sting from the salt. He just sat stone still, crying.

"Bucky?"

Bucky hadn't even registered the sounds of the water shutting off, or Steve's approach. He looked over at Steve, not sure how to break the news, if he thought his voice would even cooperate.

Steve watched him, waiting for a response before a look of realization took over the concern. "That was Kerrie, wasn't it?" It was all Bucky could do to nod in confirmation. Steve looked down at the ground. "Well," he finally said, voice thick. "This is officially the worst birthday ever."

A half-hearted attempt at keeping his composure. It lasted for about five seconds before Steve put his hand over his eyes, and Bucky could see the rest of his face crumple. Without even needing to think about it, Bucky was up on his feet and crossing the room to where Steve was and pulling him into a hug.

They didn't even notice when the fireworks started going off.


End file.
